Lock It Up

I like to think of myself as a reasonably intelligent individual. But every once in a while, I do something so incredibly stupid it confounds me. Tonight I drove into Harvard Square to meet up with some folks from the Notch Session running team, which I ran with recently in the Vert Sasquatch trail race. I pull into the same parking garage I always use, get my stuff together, open the door, lock it and start walking to the elevator. Then I notice that I don't have my keys. I go back to the car and sure enough, they're still in the ignition. At least the car wasn't running, but holy crap, what an awful feeling.

I've only locked my keys in my car once before, sometime around 1990 when I had driven my brother back to Dartmouth for the semester. We were done moving his stuff in and I was about to leave when I noticed my keys were locked in my Hyundai. A campus security guy was able to open my door with a "slim jim" and I was on my way, but it was kinda humiliating.

So it's been 22 years since it last happened. I was kind of shocked at first, wandering around looking for a cop. I finally found one and asked him if he could jimmy the lock, but apparently they don't do that anymore because people sued after their cars were damaged. I called AAA and waited for another half hour or so before the owner of the falafel shop next to the garage suggested I ask the garage attendant, who sure enough was able to open my door in about a minute.

I was able to make it for the last half hour of the get-together, so the night wasn't a total loss. I suppose I should be happy my bouts of stupidity are few and far between. Here's hoping it's another 22 years before I do it again.